


strawberries and cigarettes

by kinos



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: College AU, M/M, Song fic?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 20:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16226840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinos/pseuds/kinos
Summary: He’s long nights and daydreams, he’s blue eyes and black jeans, he’s strawberries and cigarettes, and Yuto really wishes he could forget the taste of him.





	strawberries and cigarettes

**Author's Note:**

> me, quietly sliding this fic over to the yukinators: h-here friends
> 
>  
> 
> ok but Really this is just something i've been meaning to write since hyunggu mentioned he liked [strawberries & cigarettes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=73NiyGHL6Js), so it's sort of based on that and it kinda went a little.. _off-course_ (read: sad n angsty) as most of my fics do BUT it was fun and short and a nice way to sort of ease my way back into writing and i'm sorry the ending is a bit rushed we all know i always have trouble with endings but well...
> 
> anyway! for those who missed it, [here's](https://twitter.com/ao3kino/status/1035816417537347584) why i've been MIA and again, i can't say for sure when i'll be able to come back for good but thank you all for being patient with me and i hope you enjoy this little piece for now <3

Yuto meets him on the way home from class, head fuzzy from a half-heard lecture, hands numb from the biting cold, and he wouldn’t have even noticed the boy if not for the fact that he came to stand right in Yuto’s way, his shadow spreading like ink against the pavement, forcing Yuto to look up at him.

“Hey,” he says, or at least, that’s what Yuto reads from his lips before he tugs out his earbuds, cutting off his music just in time to hear him ask, “Got a light?”

It takes a moment and a not-so-subtle glance at the cigarette pinched between his fingers for Yuto to realise that he isn’t asking for a flashlight, the hand that was already reaching for his phone going still just over his pocket.

“Oh.” He must notice the hesitation. “It’s okay if you don-”

“I do,” Yuto blurts out, too quick, too loud, too much like a lie that he’d just come up with to impress him.

Except it isn’t, and Yuto’s hand slips into his bag, into the sliver of space between his pens, pulling out a lighter that hasn’t touched his skin since the first time he’d gotten it; an impulse decision fueled by the simple fact that as a 15-year old, Yuto thought it would be fun to try and nick a little something from the corner store. He was ready to make a run for it and never show his face there again if the anyone so much as looked at him a second too long, but he walked away with the lighter in hand and the heat of rebellion in his gut.

Yuto holds the lighter out on his palm, fluid unmoving in its black case, his lips barely forming the right word when he says, “H-Here.”

He eyes it, but he makes no move to take it, glancing back up at Yuto, and- “Do you mind?”

Again, it takes a little more than a moment and Yuto’s eyes following the lines of his thin fingers as they bring the cigarette to his lips for Yuto to realise what he’s asking for this time.

“You- You want me to-”

He nods, leaning in, tilting his head up just enough for Yuto to swallow the rest of his sentence, and _oh no._ He’s never even struck that lighter of his, let alone used to it light up an actual cigarette, but he’s watched movies and he’s got about an ounce and a half of pride, so that’ll have to do for now.

“Okay,” Yuto says, and he does.

He tries not to fumble with it, he really tries, because it’d be embarrassing if he did, but his finger can’t seem to catch on the wheel, too distracted by the boy’s face in his own, too close for his liking, expectant eyes staring right at him.

His eyes are blue, too blue to be real, the same way his silver hair isn’t real either, tinted with a faded lilac that looks like it’ll wash out by tomorrow, and Yuto doesn’t know why he finds it pretty.

He thinks it’s because he just finds _him_ pretty.

“Sorry,” Yuto offers when they’ve been standing there a little too long, a little too still, the boy bent over awkwardly as he continues to struggle with the stupid lighter. He silently prays to the God that he doesn’t even believe in to help him out here, and he almost lets out a cry of relief when he finally strikes a flame, ignoring the sting against his finger in favour of lifting it up to the stick, except his poor hand shakes, slips, and-

“I got you.”

The boy’s free hand comes up to steady Yuto’s own, just as cold as his, and he keeps the flicker of the fire against the tip of his cigarette until it lights, until it burns, until Yuto pulls his hand away and says, “There we go.”

“There we go,” he echoes, smoke lacing his words, clouding his gaze, and in the haze of it, he smiles at Yuto. “Thanks.”

Yuto should go, he has no reason to stay, and he’s about to walk away, lighter in hand, except the pretty boy offers the cigarette to him, and he feels a different kind of heat stir in him now.

“Um, sorry, I don’t-”

“You carry a lighter, but you don’t smoke?” He laughs, small puffs of white spilling past his lips as he does, floating in the gap between them like little clouds. “Don’t tell me you go around lighting birthday candles or something.”

A moment, a little more than a moment, Yuto’s stare catching on the wide stretch of his grin, his fist bumping against the curve of Yuto’s shoulder, and then Yuto realises that he’s joking. He’s _joking._

“Ah, that’s not…” Yuto coughs up a laugh of his own, that warmth in him rising up, up, up, bringing blood to his cheeks and he wants nothing more than to hide his face. “I just thought it would be cool. To- To have one.”

He hums at that, taking a drag of his smoke, long, slow, the kind that made it look like he could hold his breath far longer than Yuto ever could, and he breathes it out through his nose, long, slow, eyelids falling shut as he does.

Yuto wonders if it hurts. He doesn’t dare ask.

“It’s not cool,” he says then, eyes flicking open again, but Yuto doesn’t think he’s in any position to say that, especially when _he_ looks cool doing it, and before he knows it, Yuto hears his own voice say, “But you’re cool.”

Another heavy drag, another airy laugh, another touch to Yuto’s shoulder, except it’s softer, and his fingers linger on Yuto’s arm just for a little while before he says, “No, I’m Hyunggu.”

“I know,” Yuto answers, and _damn,_ why can’t he just keep mouth shut? At the curious – _confused?_ – glint in Hyunggu’s eyes, Yuto’s tongue goes stiff, twisted, but he forces himself to say, “Uh, we’re in the same college.” A pause. “And we went to the same high school.” Another pause, longer. “Same middle school too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Hyunggu offers a small smile, an awkward scrunch of his nose, and once more, he holds out the half-burnt out stick, as an apology of a sort, he supposes, so this time, Yuto takes it.

It’s _terrible,_ it makes his insides burn when he breathes in, but he tastes the barest hint of strawberry under the bitterness of it all, and he wonders if that’s just what Hyunggu’s lips taste like. He wonders if he’s always tasted like that. He wonders if he’d taste like that if Yuto kissed him now.

He wonders, wonders, wonders, and he doesn’t realise he’s smoked the thing down to the filter until Hyunggu’s fingers wrap around his, even colder now, but Yuto doesn’t think he minds it.

“Easy,” Hyunggu laughs, taking it from Yuto to put it out against the gravel, rubbing a firm hand over his back when he almost coughs up a lung. “You shouldn’t have done that on your first try, kid.”

“I’m not a kid,” Yuto manages to wheeze out, and Hyunggu is still grinning, still making it harder for Yuto to breathe when he ducks down to meet Yuto’s eyes as he says, “No?”

He shakes his head, swallowing cool air and putting on a stupid smile of his own before he says, “No, I’m Yuto.”

“Well, Yuto, you’re younger than me, aren’t you?” asks Hyunggu, and it’s a funny question, coming from someone who’s trying hard not to make it obvious that he’s tiptoeing to level with Yuto’s height. “It’s just… I’m pretty sure I know everyone in my year, and I know enough seniors to know that you aren’t one.”

Yuto doesn’t know how to tell him that they’re actually the same age, that Yuto is technically older, that he knows a lot more than just Hyunggu’s name without sounding like a total fucking _creep,_ so all he can bring himself to say is, “I’m in the year below you,” and they leave it at that.

Again, Yuto think it’s time to go, he’s already been here too long now, foot lifting to take a step, but then Hyunggu asks, “Hey, are you going for that movie thing tonight?”

He isn’t, because college events aren’t really his scene, because he doesn’t really like the movie that they’re showing, because he doesn’t have anyone to go with and he doesn’t want to be that one loser who’s sitting on his own, but he fakes a long huff, pretending to think on it, and he says, “I don’t know yet. Maybe.”

“You should come,” Hyunggu says, and Yuto isn’t sure if that’s meant to be an invitation, or if he’s just saying that he shou- “We could sit together.”

_Oh._

“We’ll eat some popcorn, drink some beer…” His lips spread into something cool, something fun, something that reminds Yuto of doing things that he isn’t supposed to do. “Light some birthday candles, maybe.”

Yuto’s brain goes into overdrive, or maybe it’s his heart, or something somewhere in there that’s decided to give up on him, his words slipping out of his grasp, unable to come up with an answer even though he can feel every bit of him screaming _yes,_ but what he spits out is, “I have to ask my parents first.”

Hyunggu’s face brightens into one of amusement, reaching out to poke a finger at Yuto’s stomach and he almost snorts when he teases, “Not a kid, huh?”

“It’s just- I still live with them,” is Yuto’s lame excuse, the sentence coming out whinier than he meant it to. As if it made it any better, he adds, “And some nights, they have dinner-”

“I’d be concerned if they didn’t.”

That makes Yuto laugh, a real one this time, falling out of him in half-laughter, half-near tears, and he even dares to return Hyunggu’s poke, mumbling out a small, “You know what I mean.”

“I know,” Hyunggu nods his head, clicks his tongue, flashes a quick smile to show that he understands, but for a moment there, it’s almost like he’s disappointed, Yuto doesn’t want him to be disappointed, Yuto doesn’t want to be the one to disappoint him, and then, he’s saying, “But I’ll try to make it.”

Hyunggu’s eyebrows shoot up at the sudden change of mind, mouth slowly curving up again when he says, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Yuto blurts out, again, too quick, too loud, too much like a lie that he’d just come up with to impress him, and it really might be one this time, because there’s no way he’s actually going to go tonight.

But maybe it’s worth the risk when Hyunggu’s grin grows bigger, when his eyes burn brighter, when he feels like everything that Yuto should stay away from, and he decides that he doesn’t want to stay away anymore.

—

It’s right before dinner, table already laid out, the lot of them sat in a circle, that his father asks, “Any plans for tonight, bud?”

“Nope,” is Yuto’s immediate answer, and he doesn’t know why he lies. He’s been doing that a bit too much lately, he thinks.

It’s not like his parents would mind if he went out at night, it’s only normal for someone his age, after all, but they’d probably ask too many questions, like where and when and with _who,_ and he isn’t really up for being interrogated right now.

So, what he says is, “Actually, you know what, I’m not feeling too good, so I think I’m gonna turn in now.”

“Oh? Don’t you wanna eat first-”

Yuto shakes his head, gives his mother a kiss on the cheek, tells his sister not to finish all the food, before he runs up to his room, locks the door behind him and contemplates jumping out of the fucking window.

He’d probably make it, it isn’t all too high, and sure, if he lands wrong, he might just twist an ankle, but then he remembers Hyunggu’s pretty smile as he waved goodbye and said, “Come and find me later, okay?” and Yuto thinks that he could totally live with sacrificing a limb for him.

And it’s _stupid,_ because they’ve only just properly met, because Hyunggu most likely invited him out of courtesy, because Yuto could drag himself all the way there to see him like some kind of smitten fool and there’s a chance that the guy might not even remember him.

Yuto remembers him, though. He remembers the first time he’d seen Hyunggu, the first time he’d learned his name, the first time he realised that Hyunggu was one of those people you weren’t supposed to fall for in the same way you weren’t supposed to steal lighters from convenience stores.

But he did it anyway, didn’t he?

And it looks like he hasn’t quite learned his lesson, already pulling on a jacket, one leg hanging out over the window ledge as he calls on that same God from earlier to save him from a broken bone, and as soon as he makes it down in one piece, he runs.

Yuto runs and runs and runs, until he finds himself in the middle of the university’s biggest field, people stretched over blankets all around him, Romeo + Juliet playing on a screen by the front, and-

_Hyunggu._

He’s alone, laid out on the hood of his car, bucket of popcorn by his side, thin stick hanging from his lips, and even in the dark, he shines bright enough to draw Yuto in like a beacon, feet moving, hands sweating, heartstrings pulling him towards the boy he’s been trying to forget for the past five years.

“Found you,” Yuto whispers when he reaches him, and Hyunggu startles, almost slipping off his car, but Yuto grabs his wrist before he can fall, and if he didn’t know better, he’d say that Hyunggu’s pulse jumped at the touch.

Hyunggu’s eyes meet Yuto’s in the exchange, the artificial blue abandoned for his own gentle brown now, and Yuto thinks he’s prettier this way. He thinks he’s even prettier when his face splits into a blinding beam, when he lets out an excited sound, when he calls out Yuto’s name like it’s the only name he’s ever known.

“You made it!” Hyunggu pulls the stick out of his mouth to speak properly, and Yuto doesn’t know why he smiles when he sees that it’s a strawberry lollipop. “No family dinner tonight?”

Yuto makes a vague gesture, feeling a tinge of guilt when he answers, “There was, but I told my parents I felt sick, then I jumped out of my room window and ran here.”

Hyunggu looks flattered, or freaked out, Yuto can’t tell, but his palm presses flat against his own chest, feigning dramatic tears as he says, “You did all that for me?”

“N-No,” Yuto pretends to scoff, but it comes out weak, and he hopes that the night hides his blush well enough. “I did it for young Leo DiCaprio.”

“For young Leo DiCaprio…” Hyunggu echoes slowly, glancing over at the screen for a moment before turning back to Yuto with the most shit-eating grin plastered on his face to ask, “Is that your type? Should I go put my contacts on again?”

Yuto manages to bite his tongue before he tells Hyunggu, _you’re my type,_ but not quite quick enough to stop himself from saying, “No, you’re prettier like this.”

_Damn it._

Now, Hyunggu is _definitely_ flattered, but instead of embarrassing Yuto about it, all he does is scoot over to make room for Yuto on the cold metal, tugging on the hand that’s still wrapped around his wrist to help pull him up, and Yuto thinks it’s his pulse that skips a beat this time.

“Thanks,” Hyunggu says after a moment or two of quiet, and Yuto isn’t sure if he’s talking about the compliment or not. “For coming tonight. And for earlier too.” He looks over at Yuto, lips turned up in half a smile. “I’m sorry for just stopping you in the middle of the road like that. It was freezing, and I needed a light, and you were the first person I saw, so-”

Yuto wants to tell him that it’s okay, that he didn’t mind, that he would stand there in the cold to light cigarettes for him all day if Hyunggu wanted him to, but what comes out is, “Sure.”

Another stretch of silence, awkward, tense, Hyunggu pulling his hand out of Yuto’s hold, sliding off the car, muttering a, “Hey, I’ll be right back, okay?” Then, he’s gone, and Yuto wishes he hadn’t said anything at all.

He supposes he couldn’t have expected much from tonight, he was lucky to have even found Hyunggu on his own in the first place, to have spent a good five, maybe six minutes in his company, before Hyunggu must’ve come to the realisation that he didn’t actually know Yuto, that it was a mistake to invite him, that the only way to get out of it now was to make up an excuse and leave Yuto hanging for the rest of the night.

Sure, Hyunggu would have to come back for his car at some point, and Yuto might just be insane enough to wait around for him until then, but he doesn’t think Hyunggu would appreciate it much.

So Yuto only lets himself wait for ten minutes, he’s silly enough to sit there for another five, and when he’s on the brink of twenty altogether, he decides that he should just go, and-

He stills when he feels something cool against his skin, a familiar slosh of ice and beer just by his ear, then Hyunggu’s climbing back up onto the hood, closer to Yuto than he was before, saying, “Sorry about that. The lines were a little long.”

Yuto feels awful, ashamed even, and it must show, because just as Hyunggu’s handing over the cup to him, he stops, frowns, asks, “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Yuto is quick to say, but maybe he’s used up too many lies today, because Hyunggu sees right through it, nudging his arm to get a real answer out of him, and Yuto is forced to admit, “I just- I thought you left.”

Hyunggu stares at him, the same way he’d looked at Yuto when he said it’d be cool to have a lighter, steady, sharp, like he’s trying to figure him out, then he turns away and he says, “I’m not an asshole, Yuto.”

Yuto wants to tell him that he knows, that he didn’t think he was, that he would sit there in the cold to prove it to him all night if Hyunggu wanted him to, but what comes out is, “Sorry.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the right answer, but either way, Hyunggu sighs, passes him the beer, and asks, “Got a light?”

The little lighter feels more familiar between Yuto’s fingers now, more like a reminder of what he can do over what he shouldn’t, and he manages to strike it in one go this time around, Hyunggu’s smile almost proud behind the orange of the flame.

Between sharing the cigarette and pretending to watch the movie, there isn’t any room for conversation, no space for questions or wonders, so the only thing Yuto can think about is the fact that he doesn’t like smoking at all, but he likes Hyunggu and his strawberry lips more than enough to lose himself in sugar and smoke rings.

It’s colder than it was earlier, whoever thought it would be a good idea to have an outdoor movie night in this weather is probably regretting it by now, but Yuto doesn’t mind it that much. No, he doesn’t mind it at all, especially not when the heat of the cigarette turns into the warmth of Hyunggu’s hand, slow fingers crawling over to Yuto’s when an autumn chill blows past them.

“Alright?” Hyunggu asks, and as soon as Yuto breathes out an _mm-hm, definitely, yeah, fine,_ his grip tightens, more certain, hand locking onto Yuto’s like he isn’t planning on letting go.

And he doesn’t, not when it only grows colder, when they have to shuffle closer, when Hyunggu’s head falls onto Yuto’s shoulder in a way that has his stomach doing these funny flips that he swears is only because he’d skipped dinner. He doesn’t let go when their fingers start to feel numb, when they ache, when Yuto’s head tucks itself against Hyunggu’s in a way that has Hyunggu smiling so hard that he can almost feel it. He doesn’t even think about letting go when the movie comes to an end, when the credits start to roll, when everyone gets up to leave, and it would only make sense for them to go too.

“Are you-”

“Do you-”

Yuto ducks his head in a small laugh when their words crash together, coughing out a sheepish, “You go first.”

“Do you have anywhere to be?” is what Hyunggu asks, tilting his head with the question, his tone cool enough to make it sound like he’s only curious, like he doesn’t actually care what Yuto’s plans are for the rest of the night.

“Apart from supposedly nursing a fever in my bed?” Yuto shrugs his shoulders, offers a smile, hopes that Hyunggu does care. “No, not really.”

Hyunggu nods, lips pursing in thought, then- “Come with me?”

Yuto wants to say that he’d at least thought about it before saying yes, but he’d be lying.

“Where are we going?”

It’s a trick question, Yuto doesn’t want to know, he’d follow Hyunggu to wherever he wanted to take him, to the ends of the Earth even, but he should probably ask, and Hyunggu is about to answer him when-

“ _Shit._ ” He looks up at Yuto, squeezes his hand, puts on a smile that Yuto is certain could take anyone apart in a heartbeat, and he tells him, “I think I locked my keys in the car.”

And Yuto laughs, he _laughs,_ because this entire day has been ridiculous, a farce on top of another and another, and of course, of fucking course, just as he’s about to ride off into the night with a boy that may as well be a stranger to him as if this was some kind of Hollywood movie, that God he’d started to believe in decides to remind him why he’d stayed clear of Hyunggu all these years.

He’s a whirlwind, a rollercoaster, a beautiful uncertainty that Yuto should’ve only admired from afar. He’s the thrill of defiance, of secrets, of doing things that Yuto shouldn’t do. He’s long nights and daydreams, he’s blue eyes and black jeans, he’s strawberries and cigarettes, and Yuto really wishes he could forget the taste of him.

But he can’t forget, five years and he still can’t forget, so when Hyunggu pulls on his hand, when he smiles that sweet smile, when he says, “Let’s go,” all Yuto can do is follow.

—

“What did you think of the movie?”

It’s a safe question, one that would warrant a safe answer, Hyunggu balancing himself on the edge of a bench, Yuto hovering by him just in case he fell. He doesn’t fall, he never does, but Yuto sticks around anyway.

“I’ve seen it,” Yuto answers, and for once, he isn’t lying. “I didn’t like it.”

Hyunggu gives him a sour look, pausing on one foot, and he says, “Don’t tell me you’re one of those grumps who hates Romeo and Juliet.”

“I don’t hate it, I just-” Yuto gives him a sour look of his own, he thinks he pulls it off much better than Hyunggu does, and he tells him, “I think it’s stupid, okay? They knew each other for, what, three days-”

“ _Four._ ”

“And decided to die together?” He scoffs, shakes his head, stares at his feet. “It’s stupid.”

Hyunggu rolls his eyes at that. “It’s not stupid.” He breathes out a dreamy sigh, shuts his eyes, and he spins as he calls out, “They were in _love,_ Yuto.”

He falls then, heel catching on a loose bit, and Yuto moves just in time to grab him, barely making it from where he’d decided to take a step back, panic jumping up his throat, but Hyunggu’s got nothing but glee written on his face when he lands in the safety of Yuto’s arms, almost like he knew that he’d be there to catch him.

“You ever done anything for love?” Hyunggu asks, staring up at Yuto like he’s daring him to give him an answer that neither of them want to hear, an answer that neither of them should ever say.

And Yuto thinks about tonight, about lying and running and holding Hyunggu’s hand. He thinks about the past five years, about secrets and hopes and Hyunggu’s lips. He thinks about right now, about him, about Hyunggu, and he answers, “Maybe.”

Yuto sets him back down on the bench, and this time, he sits, so Yuto sits with him.

“How do you know me?”

It’s a safe question, one that Yuto gives a safe answer to, saying, “Everyone knows you, Kang Hyunggu.”

He’s telling the truth, because everyone does know Hyunggu, in the same way that no one knows Yuto, but it isn’t the truth that Hyunggu wants.

“Tell me how you know me,” Hyunggu says, and Yuto can’t find the heart to tell him no.

So, instead, Yuto tells him everything. He tells him about the first time Hyunggu caught his eye across the school courtyard, head thrown back in laughter like he didn’t have a care in the world. He tells him about the first time Hyunggu’s name was whispered among the girls in class, accompanied by shy giggles whenever he walked by their hallway. He tells him about the first time they’d actually met, about a party that Yuto wasn’t supposed to be at, about a kiss that Hyunggu wasn’t supposed to give him. He tells him about the way Hyunggu didn’t even remember him the next day, the way Hyunggu still doesn’t remember him five years later, and Yuto really shouldn’t have fallen for him, huh?

“I’m sorry,” Hyunggu whispers, and he means it.

Yuto means it too when he says, “It’s okay.”

They don’t stay any longer than that, because it’s late, because it’s cold, because Yuto gave him an answer that neither of them wanted to hear, and now, there’s nothing left for them to say.

“Got a light?” Hyunggu asks when they’re standing outside Yuto’s house, because he’s really not an asshole and Yuto had jumped out of a window for him, so walking him back home was the least that he could do.

Yuto lights his cigarette, one hand holding up the lighter, the other resting on the curve of Hyunggu’s jaw, and when Hyunggu kisses him, Yuto lets him.

He knows this isn’t a movie, he knows this isn’t love, he knows that by tomorrow, Hyunggu might just forget him once more, but Yuto lets him. Yuto lets Hyunggu’s hands find their way to his neck, lets his own settle on Hyunggu’s waist, lets the cigarette burn on the ground while they lose themselves in their own fire. Yuto lets himself fall for Hyunggu all over again, because he tastes exactly how Yuto remembers him, like sugar and smoke, like lighters and candy, like strawberries and cigarettes, and there’s no way he’ll ever forget Hyunggu now.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ao3kino\)), [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/ao3kino)


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